How High The Moon
by Gangsta Videl
Summary: [Drabble] What happens when the qualities that you adore in someone, and the ideals you just loathe, are exactly the same... ?


How High The Moon  
  
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A/N: Konoe Kaoru, happy day to you! Because today's the day I write more drabble---and this time? It's for you and your OTP. ^^  
  
Disclaimer: "How High The Moon" is a jazz song title. The characters are all Koyappi's---and that's a matter for the courts to decide.   
  
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Every night, the moon rises. And every dusk, the sun falls. The constant battle and rhythm of the celestial bodies goes on, unwavering, to everyone and everything down below.  
  
To touch a star was to chase a dream, a dream that could never be realized or attempted. Still, dreams were what people lived by, thinking of curious ideas like sugar and the moon, and ludicrous notions of rabbits in space. Only children could ever be fooled by ideals like that.  
  
Two sides of the wall, and two windows. Two seated, teenaged brunettes, both even the same age and roughly the same height. Four eyes, two pairs, stared up at the same round moon in distant wonder, though neither would ever wonder the same thing.  
  
The boy, on the outside of the barred door, would wonder about distance, the future, and the role to which he must play in order to survive. All of Darwin's laws and theories took effect, if only in him and those he was so closely related to. It was in his opinion that childish themes should be long forgotten even in infancy, to let all the world grow in the sorrow and strength of one's own abilities and weaknesses.  
  
On the other side sat the girl. She, too, stared at the moon in wonder, though of different sorts. What awaited her had yet to be seen, and she did not care for the evolution theory in the slightest. What she cared for was freedom and the quiet serenity that only the nighttime sky could bring.  
  
Indifferent and alone, one side.   
  
Desperation and fear, the other.  
  
She shuffled her body, and his head turned quickly. The sudden break in silence should have been irrelevant, disregarded, like every other movement she'd made previously. With the midnight hour drawing high, everything seemed, felt, important. But were those instincts enough to go by?  
  
Standing and turning, the bars that fitten in light now let in only the shadowed figure of himself, cast to the floor and the girl's feet like a demonic beast, ready for to feed. She skittered back and away, and his face darkened, unseen to her, and hidden by the shadows.  
  
The words came and fell, harsh in the velvety blackness of the night's reign. "Pathetic."  
  
Her eyes shot up, searching, questing for a face to recognize, associate with the voice, the words.   
  
"Don't even try," the reply came. His voice was as bland and forceful as the iron bars of her cell---full of the inflexible strength and solitude one would expect from a child who'd grown up, a hard, rocky life.  
  
"You don't know me," she said, voice small and feeble, but full of that impassive strength the boy so hated. The same childish hopes of fairy tales-come-true existed in her, in every breath she forced in and out of her lungs.  
  
Dispicable... and yet, he was drawn to that power. A power that he, the prodigal child, could not possess.  
  
It was irritating to the point of hating.  
  
The light hit in, blinding. Two worlds melded together, the perfect balance of disfunction and all that was not symmetrical. His eyes, so wide, and hers, too violet, and his hair, so short, and hers, too long, some twisted refraction of a mirror's light. Looking in and out became pointless, the rigid light twisting and converting everything in the line of sight to dark and shadow.  
  
"The moon," she'd whispered, before turning tail and running to her window. The boy moved not an inch, not a bit, only listened to her hair whip around and her feet slam against the ground as she ran. It stung, somewhere inside his apathetic exterior, that his cold, meaningless existence could be made right by what had brought her here... and that she was forcing it around on him.  
  
"It's beautiful," she whispered, and the boy made some nasal sound in contempt. That an orb caught in gravity could ever possess beauty was insane.  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
Her face had fallen then, only to be rebuilt, sculpted once more, into a scowl.   
  
"You're just saying that," she said quickly, determined---willing herself---not to falter.  
  
His face stayed the same, a rock, an island, frozen in time. "If that was true, you wouldn't have reacted the way you did."  
  
"What would you know?!" she bemoaned and wailed, precious violet eyes filling with tears. Saline, salt and water, that was all, but was there such an emotion behind them... ?  
  
She looked back to the window, tears falling. Naoe Nagi looked down upon the splatters on the floor and frowned. That this pathetic Tomoe Sakura could ever think of something to plain and obvious as mystical and possessing a poetic beauty showed that she was even less sophisticated than he'd at first thought.  
  
Another refraction of the sun's light, reflecting off the orb known as the moon.  
  
Cold eyes followed her gaze, and the last words were not spoken, only allowed to wallow in the eternal darkness of the mind before spilling into the empty vastness of thought.  
  
The moon... how childish... how heavenly, that Heaven itself must be a Hell up in the sky...   
  
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A/N: Yes, there's a reference to an old Japanese fairy tale in it. ^^v I'm sure those of you who are familiar with Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon and even Dragon Ball can figure out what I mean. =D And there's a big Rammstein influence at the end. Kind of cute, right? ^^  
  
Yay for bandwagons. XD  
  
---Gangsta Videl 


End file.
